The Meaning of Life
by HelloMabel
Summary: When one grows older, life is suppose to become more clear. For Peyton Sawyer, life just leaves her in the dark. But one letter changes that all. With the help of a town, a grandmother, and a old basketball star, Peyton begins to see the meaning of life.
1. Prologue A diabetic of memories

The Meaning of Life

By: Stella

Prologue

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A/N: Welcome to my story. 

When one grows older, life supposedly becomes more clear. For Peyton Sawyer, life goes by and she feels left in the dark. One letter manages to change that all. With the help of a old hometown, a grandmother, and a sandy colored 'mutt', Peyton begins to see the meaning of life.

This is a future fiction, most ages approximate between twenty four and twenty five for the younger, in the fifties for the adults. Some couples are undetermined and whether they should remain a couple if they are determined are still a matter at hand. You can never be sure.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill does not belong to me, nor will it ever belong to me.

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Remembering never use to be a forced action. Never. The activity use to be as simple as eating pie would be, which was pretty easy for every person except those of diabetic or was against sugar. But not for Peyton Sawyer. She was the diabetic of memories. Some people could just sit there and remember the first time they got the guts to rid themselves of those stupid tricycles and go to the big kid bike. Or the first time they shinned their knees roller blading. Or the time they entered into middle school or high school, or when they got married, or when they had their first child or met their first grandchild... but memories were never simple for Peyton Sawyer. The twenty four year old woman could sit there and try with all her might, but the only thing that would flash up in her mind were plain words with no emotions attached to them. 

_'Tree Hill'_.

Nothing but a blurry image would come to head when her ancient hometown's name came up. A town that had caused more heartache and trouble then anything else could possibly do, and it was just a simple town. But nothing twinged inside the young blonde when she tried to think about the town, absolutely nothing. The facts came up. The opinions stayed down. It was just a town she lived in and she lost in. Whenever Peyton would sit down and try to recall anything at all, it was like her television's cable cord broke off and snapped in her head. All she got were blurry staticy images. Maybe some shapeless figures as well, but nothing else. Remembering was forced and it hurt to do it. It hurt her soul and her mind and her head. She had even gotten sick one time. Just like in the past. So instead, they were just words in her head, floating around with the facts, nothing more and nothing less. _'Tree Hill', 'Jake', 'Brooke', 'Tric', 'Coke', 'Abuse', 'Jenny'.... 'Lucas'. 'Mom'._

All of it were just words. They were never memories. They would never be more then just wor--

"SAWYER!"

Peyton Sawyer jumped in her computer chair, swiveling dangerously from behind her desk that was littered with papers and a small flat screen computer. She took a heavy breath as she eyed her boss who had magically appeared from no where. Damnit. She really had to control the thinking, but she had a decent excuse this time. Specifically the pile of mail she had thrown aside quickly as her boss approached. But Mr.Stabile didn't believe in excuses, excuses did not exist in his world. She watched him as the stumpy man peered at her with a rodent like gaze above her cubicle walls. Enough about remembering. She couldn't remember and that was that Thinking of memories was just too much for her anyways. "Um.. yes, Mr.Stabile?"

"I called your name three times, Sawyer and no response! La-la land is not a daily thing here, missy! I want that links page up pronto and no more of these random visits or I am going to have to fire your scrawny little ass and send you back to the ditch you crawled from!" Mr.Stabile's rough voice grated her ears and Peyton painted on her polite smile and shrugged her thinning shoulders. No one said anything against Mr.Stabile's insults. He never spoke anything other then insults, so it gave the employees numerous times to practice on their self control. It still didn't stop from most of them hating him. Peyton was a soul believer in dispeasing the stumpy boss. "Yes, Mr.Stabile. It'll be up pronto" She turned as if to work straight away on the links page as she had promised, fingers trailing to her keyboard. Her miraculous job as a web designer was perfect for her. It kept her mind busy, far away from anything that resembled a broken television. It stopped her from thinking of things that should be left alone.

Her job was good for her. Unlike the pile of mail that she had thrown alongside her weathered keyboard.

Without even thinking, Peyton swerved in her chair, away from the keyboard as soon as she heard Mr.Stabile's loud footfalls thump down another cubicle to spread his hellish joy. As much as she enjoyed her job in computer graphics, it was hell on her mental mind. What was left of it anyways. With the lack of proper people in the job, tearing away at her, it just almost drove her into insanity. Almost. And she never got paid the right amount because her education had gone down the drain and she had only managed to achieve this rank by pure talent and luck... she had ran away after all and... her mind fuzzed out as she tried to remember about running away and just took a deep breath again. All she had to know was that her situation now was so much better then before. Even if she couldn't really remember the situation before. But she did recall being sick a lot. Peyton never got sick anymore. And being sick was bad. As well as thinking about the past.

Yet, her eyes softly turned to the roll of mail she had pulled from her mailbox outside her apartment building. It had been weird. Peyton recalled awakening in her measly little home, her stray cat, Vincent, curled into his little runt ball beside her. The apartment was quaint and small, the perfect size for her and her thinning self and her runt of a cat, Vincent. It had been hell to find, but when she did, Peyton hardly ever left it. It was perfect really, even if it was sort of pathetic for a almost thirty year old woman. She had a steady job, she had a steady life, she could have gotten a better home. It was just this home of hers just never seemed permanent, no matter how perfect it was. But for now it was the best thing compared to anything else she could have and she had to enjoy it because it was her choice. Peyton was the one who ran away. She had chickened out. She was the one who gave herself the small apartment, the limited wardrobe, and the Boston life. par par Peyton remembered, with thankful clarity, waking up in her mattress, curled in her only sin, her yellow chenille blanket and wandering out to snatch the roll of mail. On top was the thick and hideous envelope. She could remember simple things from this morning or a few months after her run away when things slowly became more realistic and more humane. But the envelope was the thing that forced the fuzzy memories of the past that were beyond normality and made her ill.

She wished she could have remembered something from her past like it had happened yesterday though, as dreadful as it may seem. But all that came to mind were those amazingly fuzzy images and fear, the fear of being alone, the fear of being touched, the fear of losing love... it had been horrible. But she'd rather have the memories, then a blank mind, even if they were horrible memories. Peyton had known she had packed up whatever she had owned at only the tender age of eighteen and ran from Tree Hill, that beloved hometown of hers, to what she hoped would be better places. But even after she had ran away, her memories were hard to build up. She couldn't recall anything when she had come into the Boston train station with nothing but a duffel bag of random assortments and a few hundred dollars in her pockets. She could only recall a certain favor for computers and that the thumb ring, the one on her right hand that had one diamond star and random swirls, was important to her. Otherwise, Peyton felt like she was entirely different person.

But there were certain things that nudged the then eighteen year old to recall of a life she had ran from. Like drawing or certain colors. Peyton had this feeling, in the tips of her fingers, that she could draw, but she wouldn't dare touch a pencil to a paper to do that. Just the thought of it made her stomach turn and her throat tighten. She grew sick every time she thought of looking at artwork, or of having to do anything with artwork that wasn't computer created. Even that one time when she had walked leisurely through a department store and the wretched smell of paint filled her senses. She had thrown up all night because of that. She had figured that drawing had been a big part of a life she couldn't remember well.

Or like listening to oldies music. Rock 'n' Roll especially. Peyton never listened to music anymore. Or watching basketball. For some frightening reasoning, basketball was the devil to her. She avoided it like the black plague and she had this inconvenient shudder every time she'd come across it. She clicked basketball with the names _'Lucas' and 'Nathan',_ those pesky words floating in her head instead of memories, but just the words in her head did no good. Seeing was what killed her. Peyton saw basketball and she flinched. She watched a artist do his job and she shuddered. She'd walk into a vintage shop, see a stack of records, and want to sob. It hurt.

And it hurt young Peyton when she looked at the stack of letters, positioned just askew beside her keyboard.

Peyton took another heaving breath, crossing her jean clad legs. Her wardrobe had decreased since her run away from Tree Hill, having only taken stupidly what she could carry in one duffel bag. Everything else in her closet she had bought of her own paycheck, and that left her with very old and vintage clothes. Good Will was a lot better then many people thought. A few faded and thin jeans and maybe a scatter of old band shirts from the past and her comforting jean jacket were good enough for her now a days. Today it was a pair of faded black jeans, a tank top with the sex pistols over the chest and her old and ratted jean jacket, hugging her with comfort. She needed the hugs, especially with the glare of the mail starring up at her. Especially at the first letter at the top.

Brushing aside some unruly blonde curls, Peyton felt her hands wander of their own accord to the pile. Right on top of the pile was a thick brown envelope, the ugliest kind that can possibly be made. It had some stains on it, she saw, and about four different stamps, all of them famous singers. Elvis, John Lennon, Billy Joel, and Barry Manilow. The row of singers, just starring at her. Demanding her. She could hear Elvis southern accent commanding her to open it. Her fingers wavered. She really didn't want to. Peyton wanted to pick it up, rip it to shreds and throw it away, laughing in the great singers shredded faces. But something inside her clutched at her senses and that evil Peyton that lived inside her and she didn't throw it away. She was scared, but she couldn't throw it away.

But those stamps, the hideous envelope... that wasn't what scared Peyton. Without even thinking, the twenty four year old woman unwrapped the thick envelope from the pile of other useless mail and looked down, her heart suddenly thumping wildly against her ribcage. It hadn't been the row of artists that scared the hell out of Peyton Sawyer. It wasn't the ugly envelope that ruined her day. Not even the addressed part, her name scribbled out in rushed green ink, frightened her. It was the return address that made her gulp deeply and want to cry.

_'Minnie Sawyer.'_

The name sent goosebumps through her. Right beneath it, the address gleamed evilly, as if taunting her throbbing head. _'Tree Hill, North Carolina'_. Peyton turned the envelope in her hand, trying to rip her eyes from it. She starred at her thin fingers, at the simple ring on her pinky that she couldn't remember, but it was all a lost cause. Her eyes skimmed right back up to the envelope and her blue eyes pierced it. This would have been a great time to be Superman. X-ray vision might have been helpful.

There could have been a lot of things in this letter. Things about those words in her head. Things to make her sick again. Peyton hated being sick. _'Tree Hill'_, her old hometown, could be in this envelope. _'Brooke'_, a best friend, could be locked in this brown wrapped paper. _'Lucas' and 'Nathan'_ , old and forgotten flames, could be buried deep in there._ 'Karen', 'Keith', 'Dan', 'Jake', 'Rick', 'Coke', 'Anna'_... they could all be stuck in this letter. But Peyton had this deepening sense inside her, one that churned her stomach and made her want to never see the sunlight again, that told her that it wasn't about those useless words. There could be something else in that envelope.

Her grandmother could be in this envelope.

* * *

If this story made no sense to you, then to be put very simply, Peyton ran away from Tree Hill and everything within that town to California. Why or how, she can not recall because her memory is scarred with her mental being. The letter she received is from a grandmother. 

Please read and review, so I am aware whether this idea is worth continuing or not. Thank you! The next chapter shall be up shortly.

Stella


	2. Chapter 1 The Summer

The Meaning of Life

By: Stella

Chapter 1

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A/N: Welcome to my story.

When one grows older, life supposedly becomes more clear. For Peyton Sawyer, life goes by and she feels left in the dark. One letter manages to change that all. With the help of a old hometown, a grandmother, and a sandy colored 'mutt', Peyton begins to see the meaning of life.

Thanks for the reviews for the prologue, nice to know I have some interest! Also, I would like to apologize for any typos or misspellings, I don't have a beta reader and so I am working on it myself and my head just gets a bit to scrambled sometimes.

And a mistake in the prologue was actually in my explanation, heh. Peyton is in BOSTON not California. Thanks.

Disclaimer: One Tree Hill does not belong to me, nor will it ever belong to me.

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Lucas Scott wandered down the sidewalks of Tree Hill, the crisp autumn air ruffling his sandy hair. It was a nice day. It really was. And he would have loved to enjoy it if he hadn't had three maniac dogs attached to his wrist. Otherwise... this would have been a ultimately great day.

Lucas groaned as he walked farther down the lifeless sidewalks of his quiet hometown, the breeze turning up a notch as he watched the dogs frolic before him, their eyes gleaming with a intent. To ruin his bachelor life, of course. Lucas's eyes skimmed over the three of them. The largest, a great dane with warm chocolate brown eyes and the goofiest grin around, lead the pack, nose obviously glued to the cement. That was Lysander. The second, a dainty husky, pranced behind them, nose stuck in the air. That was Othello. The third, a dumb and fluffy walking hairball, with no visible eyes and a dumpy tail, wandered off in the wrong direction. That was Romeo. And Lucas really needed to consider giving him a hair cut. Those dummies.

These three were something of a weird family for Lucas, the ruining of his life. It had all started with Othello. The young man remembered it clearly, walking down the path toward the main town, his lanky frame hardly enough to keep up with the pace of the demonic mutts. He had gotten the husky puppy from his best friend, Haley James... er Haley Scott, his bad, after his operation on his heart. Life had taken a cruel turn and had decided that he should develop the disease he had inherited from his paternal father. Actually life had taken many cruel turns of fate for the twenty five year old man.

Lucas had been born without a father. That was okay. He had a healthy childhood, with a tonka truck in one hand and a basketball in the other. Basketball was the one thing Lucas loved more then anything. He was willing to risk his life for basketball and he had almost done it, but that damn operation.... anyways, he was getting ahead of himself there. His twisted life really started out at that basketball camp years ago. He had this crazy rivalry with this kid named Nathan... Nathan Scott. Kids had made fun of them about being brothers and he was the one stuck without the dad. Because he was the hated one. Lucas remembered coming home and asking his mother about this supposed father, glad to see his Uncle Keith wasn't around or that Haley, that childhood best friend of his, hadn't followed him back home with her eager footsteps. He had known Haley since he was old enough to pronounce his own name and his Uncle Keith was always like a father to him, but right then, he didn't need the comfort of his favorite people. He liked it best when it was just him and his mom, them together, it had always been perfect then. But this revelation rattled him and their perfect world. And when he had asked his mother, she had denied it. But the tears and sobs he heard later that night confirmed his thoughts. He was the abandoned son.

What made it even worse was that his own father lived only a few blocks away. This was the ringer. And he lived his life in awkwardness, a family so spread apart, but so undeniably close at the same time. Nathan and Lucas grew up with different lives and different personalities. Lucas's mom, Karen, had developed a low key attitude in her son. Dan, Lucas's father and sadly his own, had taught Nathan that he was the best of the best, pushing him and pressuring him and Lucas could see that eventually it would lead to his brother's ultimate doom.

Lucas had been wrong. Surprisingly, Nathan had done a turn around and the next thing Lucas could realize he and Haley were dating and then even quicker, they had gotten married. All during high school. Lucas's jaw still ached slightly from the surprise of it all. But he respected their wishes and the rivalry the two Scott brothers had slowly diminished in the drama and despair that Tree Hill was buried in.

Tree Hill was definitely a dramatic town. For such a small place, in just North Carolina, so much has happened that Lucas was surprised they were still considered a 'small town'. He took a firmer hold on his dog's leash, leading them toward Tree Hill's local grocery store, mind still swarming. Pregnancies, abandonment, deaths, drugs, scandals... all of it packed in one little place. It was enough to even drive Lucas away one to many times and enough to drive many others too. Lucas was only twenty five, he had graduated only just a few years ago from his high school and he was one of the few rare kids from that era still hanging around. Nathan and Haley Scott had moved up to Charleston, to help both of their careers and their three year old son, Charlie.

And the rest of his friends... half of the basketball team went off to college and he never really saw them again. The river court players were scattered through out North Carolina, not straying to far from their roots and he saw them occasionally. Just the other day he had a talk with Mouth and Skills... good times. Jake Jagielski stayed here in Tree Hill though, a old basketball player pal, with his now eight year old daughter, Jenny. That was comforting. And then the illustrious Brooke Davis. A girl that was complicated and sweet and someone he just was stuck between.

Brooke had been Lucas's girlfriend near the end of his senior and most of high school and they had the summer of the operation together. Dan had a heart problem that was genetic and the perfect son, Nathan, was free from it. Lucas just never got a break. It appeared in his later years, specifically the end of senior year, and it had been dangerous for him to play basketball. Lucas did it anyways. All the time. And he played and he played until his heart grew so weak that he had to have an operation. That was the summer Lucas had gotten Othello and that was the summer Brooke had grown scared. That was the summer of many things... a unforgettable summer, really. A lot more then just those simple things happened.

His and Brooke's relationship remained working until they had to split up for college and long distance didn't work out like they had imagined it would have. Brooke moved up to New York with the thought of becoming a fashion designer and Lucas stayed in North Carolina working on a degree for journalism. They had broken apart, but whenever Brooke came for a visit, Lucas found it hard to stay away, especially when he had a hard enough time alone in Tree Hill. He didn't know why he stayed and didn't leave along with the rest of them or left with Brooke or just... go. But something was keeping him here and he couldn't get away from it.

Othello was the one who had started it all. Lysander quickly followed when Hales and Nate moved, the only two people despite his mother and uncle that he truly loved. And they moved, taking one of his newest basketball buddies with them, his nephew, Charlie . That wasn't cool and Tree Hill was looking particularly empty with them gone. That would have been the perfect time to leave, go with Brooke, go with Hales and her family, his nephew... but he was still tied down. To what, Lucas didn't know. He had just finished college, had two dogs, a small apartment, and a ache in his heart and no one to talk to. That was then that he decided to get a job.

Lucas's operation had done it's job, but no matter how great he was or how strong his heart was getting, professional basketball wasn't even a option for a career. With that in the background, no great amount of graceful moves would get him on a team or with a scouting agent. So instead, he branched off, with his journalism degree, but he found that wasn't all too fun ethier. By then, he had been doing a lot of hanging out with Jake, one of the last few people in Tree Hill he knew from high school, and Jenny, his daughter that amazingly loved her elementary school. He and Jenny were buddies, he loved hanging out with her because her childish enthusiasm just got him pumped. Excited. Little kids made him smile and laugh, and he was more relaxed around their innocence more around the dramatic adults around Tree Hill.

So Jenny suggested he go and be their new gym teacher at Tree Hill Elementary.

And so Lucas took her suggest, ran with it, and was now the three year, well loved, gym teacher at Tree Hill elementary, teaching kids the ultimate basics of not just basketball, one of his treasured sports, but of rules and fairness and judgment and when he was in the mood, other sports. It was so much easier then rowdy teenagers with potential, like he and Nathan were during high school, because he was building off a foundation for them. He could already tell there was going to be some stars in his group, a range of grades and ages. It was the job of a lifetime.

But with life looking up so much, it had to take a turn somewhere in there. Somehow. That's where Romeo came in. When Dan, his father, died, he had gotten this shaggy mutt like dog, one that would be the pure definition of abandonment and need. Dan's health had been pushed to it's best in his middle age even after his heart attack, but as he grew older, it declined more and more. But Lucas then, had known that it had nothing to do with his health, but his soul. Lucas had this feeling that Dan had come to realize that the world did not revolve around him and that he was missing a life with BOTH his sons, a daughter in law, and the kicker... his grandson. His health had rapidly declined and one night two years ago, Lucas got a call that Dan had drowned in his bathtub. Whether it was a suicide or just from pure exhaustion of having to prove he was right and finding out he wasn't... Lucas didn't know and honestly didn't care.

It surprised him though, that it hurt. Dan's death hurt him. That was his father, helped him into creation and even though he had made his childhood hell and went out to ruin Nathan and Haley's life, he had tried. There were some points where he had tried, in his own twisted way. So Lucas had gotten Romeo, a dog that was just like him in every respect. A sandy colored and blind mutt. To help fill that growing hole in his heart. Right. Three dogs, a empty apartment, a life full of kids and he was only allowed to share it with someone when they came down to visit. Lucas really needed to leave Tree Hill.

Damn, if only he could cut the bondages that kept him here.

The cool air of the grocery store chilled him and he smiled to see the slight crowd. Thanksgiving was approaching and they bustled to get some food products. Lucas's plan for Thanksgiving was spending it with his mother and her new family, Hales and Nate, and maybe even a surprise visit from Brooke. Not a bad plan, a lot better then other Thanksgivings. "Okay, you three. I want you all to behave. You are in the presence of what could be thousands of ladies. You need to be impressive" he grumbled to the three figures of the dogs. Lysander snorted as his nose was finding it hard to breath while glued now to the side of a counter. Othello simply starred ahead blankly. Romeo drooled over the cans of beans and attempted to scarth between his ears.

Oh boy.

"Well, as much as your boys show off the allure of beauty, it seems their impressive streak goes as far as Romeo managing to bend his fat body like that"

Lucas chuckled when he heard the intervening voice and turned around, greeted with the round and pudgy figure of one of the most illustrious women in Tree Hill. In her fluffy bright red eskimo sweater and bright yellow overalls, Minnie Mo stood before him with a twinkly in her round eyes, rosy cheeks and the smile that was as long as a ruler. Minnie Mo was the art teacher at the local elementary school and was the first one to kiss him on the lips as a greeting. 'The french do it all the time, it's quite the greeting' he recalled in shock as she pulled back and pushed her graying blonde curls up into her messy bun and shoved the pencils back in randomly. With her weird last name, and weirder tastes in well.. everything, Minnie Mo was the town gossip and the town's favorite person.

Her uniqueness was probably the credit for being the favorite. Tree Hill thrived on the unusual, like any small town would. Not like it needed anymore of the unusual though. That special summer of his was enough for him and it should have been enough for others, but that all just depended.. Now that he thought about it, smiling at Minnie Mo's teasing, she was just like that summer long ago. That summer of his operation, the summer of Othello, the summer Brooke cried. The summer Peyton Sawyer ran.

It happened like this a lot. The thinking of Peyton would just strike him out of no where and there she was, in his head as clear as day. But it wasn't the Peyton he had remembered in the last few weeks of senior year, no, this Peyton was smiling and looking healthy, her big true grin, her curls bouncing and everywhere. That was always his favorite part of Peyton. Not her body, not her smile, not her eyes. Her hair, it was just her. He remembered that. Bouncy and full of something.... life, understanding, forgiveness.... it was just her. Not that Lucas could judge though, he had felt like he had known her for so long... but he didn't know if he tried long enough to really back a good judgment on Peyton Sawyer.

Their attraction was huge, their relationship small. It had been a bad choice to do what he did, having been dating Brooke when he finally kissed Peyton. He had such... weird feelings for her and he just didn't know how to get them across. Something about her, even when she dated Nathan those early years... it captured him. But he was a stupid teenager. Even more stupid when he didn't pursue her even more after a fall out and Peyton fell farther and farther away from him. He hadn't been the best friend, he hadn't exactly been the there for her, like he had promised and he did care for her, but things had just gotten so muddled and muddled fast. He had gone back to dating Brooke and was in the troubles of this disease, when suddenly the news of Peyton's disappearance ran stark crazy over town. Daisy Miller had seen her running frantically to the station with a large duffel bag and that was the last thing anyone heard from her. No note, not a word.

It had probably been one of Lucas's biggest failure. He had felt like he hadn't done his best and he was the one who sent Peyton running. He wasn't the only one. Hales was scared for her, Nate felt like he was one who did it by screwing up her mind in relationships on the first hand, Brooke had a hard time with drinking then, Jake couldn't talk for a week, and his own mother had cried for Peyton. That had hurt even more then all of it put together. His mom and Peyton had been close and it hurt to think that in this reality of his, he had let both of them down. It was something he could never fix since Peyton had gone missing in action ever since. People had just gone on pretending she never existed or those pesky rumor people had insisted a mystery behind her sudden disappearance. Which was so tricky, because when she disappeared... the poor girl didn't deserve what happened to her. A dead mother, twisted relationships, a drug addiction, a abusive boyfriend... Lucas just figured if he didn't think about Peyton, it wouldn't hurt. And it worked fine. But every time Minnie came around he couldn't help but let a flash of a artistic, smiling, curly haired girl flash in his head. And it just hurt all over again.

"What has got you in such a pleasant mood today, Minnie Mo?" he insisted, pushing the ache away and smiled truly at Minnie who had pet the wandering Romeo's head. No one knew Minnie's last name and the kid's in his art class had taken to calling her Minnie Mo. It stuck. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know" she insisted in her loud and rambunctious voice, looking up and then smiling as Lucas waited. It took a moment before the heart of the town spilled. "I sent a letter to my granddaughter today. I asked her to come down. And you know what? I know she's going to come down"

Lucas felt his eyebrows shot up. Granddaughter? Family? From what he could muster, the only history of Minnie Mo was that she had moved down a few months after his graduation and Peyton's disappearance and bought a huge art bungalow right near the beach- with what money, he didn't know-, had no last name, a cat the size of a praticularly large flower pot, and that's is as far as it went. No one knew where she came from or what family she had or why she had come down to Tree Hill. He blinked. A granddaughter?

Just what they needed.

More to talk about.

"Well, that's just great, Minnie Mo. Absolutely great"

* * *

Peyton knew she had to breath. In through the nose out through the mouth. She had to keep that up if she wanted to keep to her senses.

The envelope sat ripped to shreds on her small kitchen table and the letter sat propped up before her. The young woman held her face in her hands, fingers dug into the thickness of her growing blonde curls. Oh Lord. Oh Lord. Why Lord? Why did he do this? She took another breath, calming her trembling fingers, her stomach on automatic. She had already thrown up her entire dinner after reading the letter and it was still going, clenching and unclenching. Why did Lord do this to her? Put her through this? He knew her stomach couldn't take this in.

But yet the letter was as plain as blue in front of her. The scarthy grin ink of Minnie Sawyer's words from the envelope were scrawled all over two thick sheets of paper, gushing warmth and uncertainty. And an invitation.

An invitiation from her grandmother.

Just the thought made her throat tighten and she coughed, careful when she felt Vincent climb into her lap for comfort. She took the scrawny runt of a stray in her hands, hugging him against her, trying to still the beating in her heart. The letter had sat in front of her for what felt like years, but only fifteen minutes had passed since she had left work and sat and starred at it for a hour and ripped it open with a crazy woman's will just that long ago. She had read it with aching eyes and she had hadn't moved or touched it since. She felt her fingers would burn if she touched it and she would spontaneously combust if she stood. So she just clutched to her cat and starred.

Nothing came to her head, except of a hurricane of those words. Memories were useless and all she had were the facts. This letter had spoke of a life that Minnie Sawyer had in the past, of.... her mother.... she spoke of her mother and her death and how she, herself, had a darling job and a darling life and all she needed was her darling granddaughter to perfect it. Well, fuck that. Peyton was not going to perfect someone's life like that, just because she asked. She hardly remembered ever having a grandmother. Well, that made sense, she hardly remembered anything anymore.

But that wasn't the kicker. Peyton felt her eyes glaze over when this Minnie woman... this grandmother went on to explain something of a contract. A paper. A will. From her dead mother. Her dead, dead, dead mother. When she read that she raced to the bathroom, threw up everything she could and let her eyes prick. No tears fell. Peyton never cried anymore. She only threw up. And now, this Minnie grandmother lady... wanted her to go back to Tree Hill, to come to her. She had been looking for her for years she said. It's time for family to be together she said. Fuck you Peyton wanted to scream her body trembling as Vincent clawed at her thin arms. Fuck you. It's too late, she couldn't go back, not even for her mother, she couldn't go back, not to those words, those words would eat her alive...

There was also a reason why she couldn't remember. It was because at one point, Peyton Sawyer didn't want to remember.

But the words 'will' throbbed in her head. That was the last thing her mother left for her. Intended for her. It was from her mother. She had loved her mother, Peyton did. Loved her so much. And it was from her mother. Was it meant for her eyes? Would it just sit there if she left it? Or heaven forbid this Minnie grandmother woman read it and used it for herself? No. Already this distinct hatred for this Minnie grandmother built on her and she took a breath, feeling Vincent wriggle and slink away to the top of the table. No. She couldn't do that to her mother. She was already a failure in life, a failure at being a human being. She couldn't rub it in her mother's face.

She couldn't do that.

"Don't get comfy Vincent" Peyton spoke and her voice was surprisingly hard. She couldn't believe she was doing this. But she could. She could just go through the back route, not step one bit into town, stay away from everyone. They were probably all gone anyways. Stay away from it all, steal this will from her supposed grandmother and rip it to shreds, so this Minnie woman couldn't read it and no one else could. This was her mother and Peyton never wanted to see anything of her mothers with anything else. Not even her own grandmother.

"We're going back to Tree Hill"

* * *

Well, there ya go. Sorry for the extreme length, but I had so much foundation that I didn't realize until I was done how long it was. Quick synopsis: Lucas Scott's background was explained and the woman, Minnie Mo, whom he spoke to was actually the one who sent the letter to Peyton. Her granddaughter was Peyton herself. Peyton is upset about her mother's will or contract or letter being in the hands of a grandmother that she could already feel hatred for so she decides she would go back to Tree Hill, in the shadows and retrieve it for her mother's sake.

Good Luck on that, Peyton.

Next Chapter: Peyton returns with major deja vu. Lucas mets Hales at the airport with Charlie and things take a turn for insanty. What fun.

Anyways, please, keep the reviews going so I can realize what are good and bad. I am going just at utter whim here, so yeah. Thanks so much for your time!

Stella


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